An Angel of Death
by musepro
Summary: 1997-Wimbledon, US Open; 1998-Australian Open, US Open; 1999-French Open, Wimbledon; 2000-Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon; 2001-Australian Open. The son of a former pro and a money grubbing witch; he participated in his first Grand Slam tournament when he was 7 and by the time he was 12, he had won 2 1/2 Career Grand Slams. Now in Japan, he swears off tennis.


_A/N_

**Hey, y'all! This is my first PoT FanFiction, so plaese be nice! Read, Review, whatever! Thanks for clicking!**

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**DISCLAIMER: I do not own PoT**

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_Wimbledon 1997_

"_Game, Set, and Match; Fortuna! Six games to two! Six games to four! Six games to three!" It was the first match out of the preliminaries for the Spanish born tennis player, Alyksandr Gryphiths-Fortuna. He was playing his first Grand Slam Circuit at age eight, and at this point, he had been in the top ten in all of the tournaments, top three in two. He was a worldwide phenomenon; the youngest to ever play in the Majors. Everyone was surprised when he made it past the prelims in the men's league, much less the quarter finals. This time, though, he was aiming for the top spot._

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"_Game, Set, and Match; Fortuna! Six games to three! Six games to four! Six games to two!" Round two was over. _

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"_Game, Set, and Match; Fortuna! Seven games to five! Six games to four! Six games to four!" Round three had been harder, but he continued on his winning streak. He had yet to reach the top pros, but he could clearly see why his father had told him to avoid the junior's league. His father, a former pro, had set a record for most Grand Slams and had been training Alyksandr since he was four. _

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"_Game, Set, and Match; Fortuna! Six games to one! Six games to love! Six games to love!" His opponent had made a serious mistake in pissing him off before the match. The match had been the quickest played in the tournament, lasting a total of 37 minutes. The man would be forever scarred by the tennis played by the eight year old. _

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"_Game, Set, and Match; Fortuna! Seven games to five! Six games to three! Six games to four!" The quarter finals had finally arrived, bringing with them a harder opponent. The sets had been close, but it was a solid win for Alyksandr. He would move on to the semi finals where his opponent would be C__é__dric Pioline, a Frenchman. _

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"_Game, Set, and Match; Fortuna! Six games to two! Six games to one! Six games to four!" With the semifinals over, he had yet to drop a set and was on his way to the finals with the former no. 1 singles player, Pete Sampras. It would be the hardest game of the tournament. _

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"_Game, Set, and Match… FORTUNA! Six games to four! Six games to two! Six games to four!" The crowd was silent for a moment before they burst into the loudest applause Alyksandr had ever heard. They cheered and shouted his name and for the first time since the Grand Slam Circuit began, Alyksandr Gryphiths-Fortuna showed his face to the world and smiled. He smiled beatifically until his face hurt from all the smiling and he walked to center court to shake hands with his former opponent, _the_ Pete Sampras. _

"_Nice match, kid. You played great. But next time, I'll get ya, just you wait and see." Sampras grinned as they shook hands and there was a frenzy of clicking and flashing as reporters swarmed the scene. '8 Year Old Pro Beats Sampras!' would be the headline the following morning to be seen by players all across the globe. _

_So began the first Career Grand Slam of Alyksandr Gryphiths-Fortuna… and also the crumbling of his familial structure. _

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It had been four years since that night, the night that he won his first Major; he was now twelve. Since that fateful day in July, he had won two and a half Career Grand Slams. In that same year, 1997, Alyksandr had won the US Open, then in 1998 he won the Australian Open and the US Open, in 1999 he won the French Open and Wimbledon, 2000 he won three titles: the Australian Open, the French Open, and Wimbledon, and now, in 2001, he had started out the year with a good record, winning his third consecutive Australian Open.

He wouldn't be winning any more tournaments any time soon; his mother had made sure of that. He was sure it hadn't been purposeful on her part, seeing how it was her hunger for the prize money won from tournaments -and any money in general- that had sprouted the seeds of unrest that had caused the divorce.

She had been happy, of course, when he had won that first Wimbledon title; the money had just been a bonus. But she got greedier. She pushed Alyksandr to participate in tournaments with high prizes, even if they were in direct conflict with his schooling. She spent thousands on air fare, flying him in and out of countries for tournaments and spending even more as she went. 'You have to spend money to make money' she always said. Of course she was right, in a way. They did make money, but she also squandered their other savings.

There had been arguments before, but the one after his second US Open had been the last straw. Alyksandr had been injured in the finals match against Patrick Rafter, an Australian player, developing shoulder bursitis in his right shoulder. He had talked to a trainer after the match who then referred him to a doctor who told him to ice and rest his shoulder, along with applying a topical medicine every day. He was not to play tennis until his shoulder was completely healed.

But his mother wouldn't have it.

She told him that if he didn't play the next tournament, they would die of starvation. He almost believed her. It was actually plausible; their normal account was nearly empty. But he knew otherwise, and so did his father. His father had had enough. He called the attorney, filed the paperwork, and within two months, he and Alyksandr were living on their own in a high rise apartment in Spain. It was as nice as it could get in Spain, and that was pretty nice.

His father started a tennis school in Barcelona that quickly became the most successful school on the continent, churning out top pros like there was no tomorrow. The business became so successful that they had enough money for private tutors and daily games with international pros. Alyksandr learned quickly and rose above the normal level of a middle schooler. He beat the pros, won tournaments, and became one of the most revered tennis players across the globe- all while learning high school level material.

By the time his mother deigned him worthy enough to contact, he had just won his third Australian Open and almost forgotten that he had ever _had_ a mother. She called in the middle of the day when he had been out playing against Pete Sampras in an unofficial match (Sampras had yet to carry out the threat of beating him) and since his parents had split up, his father refused to pick up any calls from '_that woman_'.

The message made Alyksandr want to scream.

"_**I saw your win in the finals of the Australian Open on the TV last week. It was an impressive match. I hope you'll keep playing after what I'm about to tell you. **_

_**I know that I've left you alone with your father for the past two and a half years since the divorce, but we do still have shared custody, and I'm going to take back all the time I was supposed to have with you. Legally speaking, you have to spend at least a year with me now, so I've booked you a First-Class Ticket to Tokyo. The flight is scheduled for 11:50 AM your time on April 2. The tickets will arrive via mail in a few days. **_

_**I think you'll enjoy Japan, **_**I**_** like the atmosphere better here, and I've heard that the middle school tennis teams have gotten much better lately. I'm sure the level's nothing like the Grand Slam or even Spain, but you might find a bit of a challenge. **_

_**When you get here, a driver will be waiting to pick you up from the airport. He'll take you to the house and we'll get everything else settled then. **_

_**Since I'm dragging you almost halfway across the globe, you can choose your own school and decorate your room. We'll pay for everything. Just remember, the school has to be in Kantō!**_

_**Oh! By the way, I've gotten remarried! You'll have to enroll in school under the surname Nakamura, but you can choose your own Japanese name if you want. **_

_**Love you, A! I'll see you in a few months!"**_

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'Japan!? Loves me!? What the hell?! She hasn't talked to me in over two years, and now she wants me to move halfway around the earth?! That woman is insane, and if she thinks I'll play tennis while she's around, she's got another thing coming! I won't do it; there's no point. And so what about a bunch of middle schoolers?! I'm twelve and I've already completed two and a half Career Grand Slams! Who does she think I am?'


End file.
